


Crash Into Me

by makesmefree



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Boys In Love, But Mickey is happy sooo, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Hurt Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher Loves Mickey Milkovich, M/M, Mickey Milkovich Loves Ian Gallagher, Panic Attacks, Shameless writers take notes, Slow Dancing, Terry Milkovich is an asshole, get outta here Terry wit yo ugly ass, kinda a song fic but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 10:41:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13500198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makesmefree/pseuds/makesmefree
Summary: Mickey wakes up to a panic attack, and Ian comforts him through it.





	Crash Into Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic. I'd like to dedicate it to coffee, Mikhailo (who deserved better), Mandy (who also deserved better), Ian (who needs to go to Mexico and get his mans), my wonderful new friend Jaime (who you may know as gallavichlyjaimie), and to everyone that takes it upon themselves to read this attempt.

Mickey Milkovich is grateful to wake up next to Ian Gallagher every morning. That much is unarguably true. Even though he never takes the comfort of Ian’s weight beside him for granted, Mickey had still learned to accept that, every once in a while, he also wakes up beside manifested pain of the past. Sometimes, the memories stir awake long before he does, leaving a morning greeting of a taste of blood on his tongue and hurt in his head. Acknowledging the hurt didn’t make it any easier, but Mickey was never going to make that evident to anyone but himself.

Mickey refused to reveal the bad feelings his past abuse sometimes brought on unpredictably even to Ian, and Ian was his person. The only person Mickey felt safe sleeping next to, and the only person he felt sincere smiling at in the morning. Mickey didn’t hide his feelings in this sense out of worry for appearing weak, necessarily (he’d already been his most vulnerable in front of Ian). It was more about not wanting to let his father win, not even that little bit. Mickey promised to himself a long time ago that he’d never give his dad what he wanted. And what his dad wanted, of course, was for Mickey to feel too distraught to be himself. So, the best revenge Mickey could ever dish out to Terry Milkovich was being happy. Being happy with Ian. And Ian makes him the goddamn happiest he’s ever been.

So why did he feel this way?

Mickey coughed a little, trying to alleviate the weight in his chest. The coughs quickly became louder and stung his throat more than he’d originally planned.

“Fuck,” Mickey murmured matter-of-factly to himself, shifting on his side to look over at the left of the bed, where Ian was laying. 

Ian’s arm was extended toward Mickey— either in unconscious habit or leftover from the intertwined position they’d fallen asleep in. Mickey was relieved to notice that the coughing hadn’t woken Ian, since he had decided to try his best to subdue the memories and emotions on his own. Before Ian gets up. The only thing Mickey could think of worse than being affected by the memory of his father on a random Sunday morning would be letting that hurt spread toward Ian in any way.

Mickey pried the comforter off of himself quietly and sat up, but as he turned to get off of the mattress the box spring creaked. Loudly.

“God fucking dammit! Shitty fucking furniture!” Mickey whisper-hissed, carefully looking over his shoulder to see if he had woken Ian up. Sure enough, his boyfriend stirred, sat up, and smirked sleepily at him. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“G’morning baby,” Ian cooed hoarsely, sleep still clinging to his voice.

“You light sleeping asshole. Go back to bed and don’t wake up until you remember I don’t wanna be fucking called baby today, alright?”

“You love it,” Ian insisted, reaching out to wrap his arms around Mickey’s back. Mickey recoiled at the touch, spun back around toward Ian and demanded

“Go back to sleep, fuckhead. I mean it. Please.” And Mickey had every intention of sounding firm, but as his gaze met Ian’s he felt his eyes prickle and his voice crack.

“Are you okay?” Ian asked, alert concern replacing the former cuddly and tired nature of his tone.

Ian expected (and was endeared by) a certain degree of bitterness from Mickey in the morning, knowing it was all characteristic of the Southside thug he’d fallen in love with. But at this point, Ian had learned the unspoken language of Mickey by heart. And with this knowledge he determined that something about this morning was different— something about this morning was not right. His suspicions were confirmed as he glanced back at Mickey to see him trembling ever so slightly, his breaths quick and hitched.

“Oh Mickey. C’mere, baby,” Ian said softly, wrapping his boyfriend in his arms.

“M’okay!” Mickey protested, but didn’t struggle against the touch.

“No you’re not,” Ian replied. “But that’s okay. It’s okay to not always be okay.”

Mickey’s breathing became more unsteady. He clenched his fists and shut his eyes in a fruitless effort to keep from crying. Ian continued to hold him and did his best to coach him through the panic attack and closer to stability.

“Hey, Mick, look at me,” Ian whispered, pressing his forehead against Mickey’s. “Try and breathe with me, nice and easy, alright?” Ian inhaled, counted to 5 slowly, then exhaled. Mickey mirrored his breaths, shakily and rapid at first, but he gradually became slower and calmer.

“That’s it, there’s my boy. Strongest boy I know. Prettiest too,” Ian whispered into his hair.

Mickey began sobbing, for a multitude of reasons he couldn’t narrow down. For one thing, he felt embarrassed and guilty for feeling so visibly and deeply. He felt bad about dragging Ian into his pain, and felt weak because he’d tried so hard not to. He felt resentment and still a twinge of the lingering fear, both of which could be traced back to his dad. He was pissed off at the prospect that his emotions had abandoned his mind and body, letting his dad win. He felt sad, angry, nervous, unsteady, and he couldn’t stop crying. But there was something else. Something keeping him from being consumed by the corners of darkness that still occasionally seeped from the edges of his being. What else? Mickey loved Ian. Mickey thought Ian was beautiful. Mickey thought Ian was beautiful not just because of the way he saw him, but because of the way he helped Mickey see the rest of the world. It’s simple enough to think someone is gorgeous, but when you feel that way about the world when you’re beside them? That’s true love. The world is a bitter, fucked up place. Mickey knew this better than anyone. So he figured he should keep Ian around, because Ian's smile had the power to convince Mickey otherwise.

Mickey stopped crying. He looked up at Ian, who was offering him loving, patient eyes. Ian thumbed Mickey’s residual tears away, still holding him in a tight embrace.

“I’m sorry,” Mickey told Ian weakly. Ian just shook his head.

“Never apologize for feeling things. Feelings are feelings, you can’t control them.”

“I know, it just fucking sucks,” Mickey said.

“Feeling things sometimes does.”

“Not all feelings though,” Mickey admitted, his voice strained and a little weak. “I love you Ian. Loving you makes feeling all the other bullshit a little easier. Doesn’t make it go away, but it makes powering through it worth it.” Ian pulled his arms off of Mickey’s waist, only to place his hands on either side of his head and pull him into a relaxed, tender kiss.

“That was fucking gay, wasn’t it,” Mickey laughed against Ian’s lips.

“Yeah. But isn’t that kind of the point?” Ian answered with a wink, kissing him again.

Mickey didn’t say anything back. Instead, just curled into Ian, post-panic exhaustion setting in. Ian traced circles onto Mickey’s back for a few minutes, until the wordlessness communication he knew so well indicated that Mickey had fallen asleep. Promised by steady breaths and unblinking eyes that Mickey was in a deep, nightmare-free state, Ian stood up with unwavering motivation to make the coming day into a new one for Mickey— to compose promise within a second try at the morning.  
                                                                                                                   

Mickey woke up to a rather unexpected setting. For one thing, all of the lights in his and Ian’s bedroom were off. The room was illuminated only from sunlight through the cracks of the blinds and the light of three candles. It was an illumination that was slightly broken up, but entirely beautiful. There was slow, soft rock playing from Ian’s iPhone on the bedside table, and then there was Ian. He was seated at the edge of their bed, looking at Mickey intently with a cautious smile.

“Good morning, baby,” Ian tried.

“You watching me sleep, Gallagher? Fuckin’ creep,” Mickey said. But he smiled. And making that toothy grin appear now was and always had been Ian’s mission.

Mickey sat up, surveying his surroundings further. He realized that there were flower petals on the bedroom floor. Not roses. In fact, not anything remotely close. They were from the vase of daisies that Mandy had brought over because she thought their apartment looked “way too much like two dudes live here alone” (which they did) and “needed a touch of something” (which it did). They were three weeks old, the flowers, and looked even older because Ian and Mickey both constantly forgot to water them. Still, Mickey thought they made the room look beautiful, because Ian had been the one to set them down.

“What’s the bedroom covered in all this shit for? Normally, if you wanna fuck me, you just have to ask,” Mickey chuckled. Ian’s initially careful smile grew larger and cheekier as he noticed that Mickey was feeling better.

“I don’t want to fuck you.”

“Yeah, and I’m sure that tent in your pants doesn’t want to fuck me either.”

“I want to dance with you, Mickey.” Ian stood up and walked toward the nightstand, turning the volume of the music on his phone up. Mickey heard the opening notes of Crash Into Me start playing, followed by Ian singing softly to him.

“Jesus, Ian,” Mickey said. Ian could hear the eye roll in his voice. He turned back around to face him, and realized that, despite the grumbling protests, his boyfriend was smiling. Ian smiled back, and kept singing to him.

“ _Lost for you, I’m so lost for you_ ,” Ian sang, grabbing both of Mickey’s hands and pulling him off of the bed and into his arms. “ _You come crash into me…And I come into you._ ”

With his arms around Mickey’s waist, and Mickey’s arms up around his neck, Ian looked down at his boyfriend. His eyes were closed and he was swaying his hips gently to the beat, all the while leaning into Ian.

“ _Touch your lips just so I know… In your eyes, love, it glows so I’m bare boned and crazy for you_ ,” Ian continued singing, whispering the lyrics to Mickey.

“I love you more than anything in this world, Mikhailo Aleksandr, did you know that?” Ian asked, speaking over the song now. Mickey just grunted in confirmation, and continued dancing with his head against Ian’s chest, listening to Ian’s heart beat seemingly in tune with the chords of the guitar.

“I love you. But I know that’s not enough to fix everything, or anything really. I know that me loving you and lighting candles and dancing with you doesn’t heal the past. I didn’t do all this in hopes that it would. I did this because I want you to know something. Look at me for a second, Mick.” Mickey listened, flicking his eyes open and up toward Ian’s.

“Mickey, I just want you to know that when things get bad, I’ll always be here. And when things are good, I’m gonna be right here too. No matter the circumstances, you can always, always, always crash into me. I'll be your forever as long as you'll have me. You know you never have to worry about that, right?”

“I know, Ian,” Mickey told him. He meant it. He knew Ian meant it too. "I do." 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading my loves. Song they danced to is Crash Into Me by Dave Matthews Band if you were wondering:)


End file.
